Turning Page
by tomboy2012
Summary: Sad songs are all she can write after her incident. His only escape out of hell is music. Will they fall in love after being forced together? "Your love is my turning page, where only the sweetest words remain. Every kiss is a cursive line, every touch is a redefining phrase. If I had only felt how it feels to be yours, I would have known what I've been living for."
1. Prologue

**So I haven't written fanfiction in such a long time, but I saw a few episodes of Austin and Ally with my sister and now I just can't help myself. So, there is some graphic violence later in this chapter and probably later in this story, if I post the rest of the chapters. There will also be sensitive themes, I think. Everyone might be out of character at times, but this is AU. I still think that they're all pretty darn awesome, though. **

**Disclaimer****: I don't own R5, Austin and Ally, or Breakeven by the Script. **

* * *

As he presses his feet to the last stair on the staircase, he lets out a sigh of relief. He's made it downstairs and past his father's room, which is the hardest part of the entire plan. If he squints, he can see them waiting outside in the van for him. Maybe this won't be as hard as he imagined that it would be. He takes another deep breath and opens the coat closet. He winces when the door squeaks, and looks back to make sure that _he_ isn't behind him. He always appeared when Ross wasn't expecting it.

He moves the jackets and boxes to the side, and his backpack and guitar case are revealed. He swings them both onto his back before shoving his feet into his Converse sneakers. He bends down to tie his shoes, but his fingers are shaking too much for him to make a knot. He shoves the laces underneath his feet, and stands up. He puts his hand on the doorknob. He's so close to leaving, leaving the house that he's grown up in. This is the house where his mom used to do his hair in the morning and make him smiley face pancakes. He pauses.

He can't leave without a piece of her.

* * *

"God, where is he?"

Rydel leans over Riker's body until her head is practically sticking out of the window. "He said that he'd be out by four." She looks at the clock on the dashboard that reads 4:15, and starts to rub her hands together. "Maybe we should go in after him." She looks to the rest of the guys for confirmation.

"Give him a break." Rocky mumbles as he slouches into the back seat. "Maybe he was sleeping, like a normal person." He folds his arms over his chest and shuts his eyes. Ratliff nods in agreement, not able to keep his eyes open long enough to make eye contact with Rydel. "Mark never wakes up before nine unless he has a court date or something lawyer like. Ross'll be fine."

Riker stares into the dark house that spreads across most of the street, even though Ross and Mark were the only ones living there. He grips the steering wheel of the car so tightly that his knuckles are white. "He said that he'd blink the lights if something happened." He says, but he sounds more like he's convincing himself.

Rydel starts to bite her nails, something that she never does. "If he doesn't come out in five minutes, we're going to get him."

No one argues with her.

* * *

Ross grips the picture of his mother in one hand and the strap of his guitar case with the other. Her reassuring smile and the fact that everyone is waiting for him comforts him as he walks. He knows that Rydel is probably freaking out, which causes a small smile to grace his lips. Ross rests his hand on the doorknob again, but tenses when an arm wraps around his neck.

"What are you doing up so early?" He hisses into Ross's ear. His breath reeks of alcohol, even though it's four in the morning. Has he been up all of this time, drinking? Just waiting for Ross to make his move? Ross tries to fight against Mark's grip, but the lock around his neck only gets tighter. He claws desperately at Mark's hands. "Let me go," He breathes, using up most of the air that he can get in.

"Since you think that you're so big and bad now that you're seventeen, fine. I'll follow your orders."

Mark lifts his arms, and Ross goes flying. His body lands on a coffee table, which collapses under the hit. Ross's head feels like it's going to explode, and he wonders why he didn't die. Mark's footsteps thud against the wooden floor as he makes his way towards Ross. "Things aren't so hot when you're the man in charge, huh?" Mark chuckles. Ross's eyes fly open, but he can't see anything in the darkness.

"I asked you a question." Mark's voice is hard. Ross opens his mouth, but words won't come out. Instead, a small animal like noise escapes his throat. Mark laughs, the sound echoing against the walls of the house like they're in some sort of cave. "You always were weak. Always have been, and always will be."

He steps down on Ross's wrist and smiles at the crunch. Ross's scream travels for miles.

* * *

Rydel's eyes widen at the scream, and her fingers can't unbuckle her seatbelt fast enough. The lights in the house start to flicker and Riker's body flies out of the door. Ratliff and Rocky jump up, but start to trip over the instrument cases that liter the back of the van.

Riker kicks at one of the windows, and climbs in through the broken glass. Rydel follows through the small hole that's created. Ratliff looks back to see if Rocky is following and his eyebrows rise as he watches Rocky snap a branch off of one of the trees. He walks back over to the window, swinging the branch like a maniac until there isn't any glass left. Rocky gestures for Ratliff to go first and he jumps in after his friend, the branch ready in his hand.

Everyone freezes when they see Mark gripping Ross by his neck with one hand, and holding a gun to the boy's temple with the other. Rocky grips his branch tighter while Riker's hands form fists. "Look, this is a very heroic effort that you've all put together." Mark slurs. Ross's eyes are barely open, but both of his hands clutch his ribcage.

"If you don't let him go, we'll call the cops." Rydel says, her voice shaking at the sight of the gun so close to Ross. Mark laughs again. "Go ahead, honey. Call the police. It's dark, I can't see you. You've broken into my house, and attacked my son. I was defending the two of us when I shot you."

"They'll believe Ross." Riker says, his voice quiet.

Ross shifts towards his brother, causing Mark to dig the gun harder into Ross's head. His body is still, and his eyes stare up at the ceiling. "No one will care if they find drugs in his backpack, or in his dresser, or whatever." He grins. "You should know better than anyone, son."

Riker hisses and lunges forward, but Ratliff pulls him back. Ryland presses a hand to his shoulder, but doesn't take her eyes off of Ross. Mark's eyes travel towards the tree branch in Rocky's hand, and he chuckles as he shakes his head. "You could've come back to live with your brother, but you decide to live with your druggie friends instead. Maybe Ross would've been safe if you were here."

Riker lunges at Mark again, but this time no one holds him back. Mark rolls his eyes, pushing Ross's body into Riker, making Riker back into Ratliff with his brother in his arms. Ross doesn't say anything, but buries his face into the crook of Riker's neck.

"Have him back before dinner." Mark calls as he starts walking towards the back of the house. Riker grips Ross in his arms, and they all stare at the back of Mark's head, not sure if he's being serious or not. "What are you waiting for?" Mark whirls around, the gun pointed at the group. "Get him out of my fucking sight before I change my mind!"

* * *

"I just don't understand why all of these wannabe pop stars think that I want a little jerk messing up my label."

Ally can practically hear Trish rolling her eyes through the phone. Ally never was good with kids her age, but Trish is almost seven years older than her and can still pass as a twenty year old. Ally walks along the familiar streets of Miami while holding her cell phone up to her ear. "I know what you mean, Trish." She chuckles. They've had this conversation many times.

"I mean, I need something fresh. I need something new… someone the way that you were, when I first signed you!" Trish exclaims. Ally's eyebrows furrow together. "Is that some sort of insult?" She asks. Ally would never admit it, but she's been missing her hometown of Miami ever since she was signed to Rosa Records three years ago and moved to LA.

"You know what I mean, Dawson." There goes the eye roll again. "Do you know anybody?"

Ally is silent as she walks into the mall that she spent most of her teenaged years in. Nothing has changed, and all of the stores are still in the same spots looking the exact same way. She wonders if Sonic Boom is still the same. She doubts that the guys who bought it from her father would keep it the same, but she can't help the ray of hope that she feels in her chest. She decides that she'll check out the store after heading to the ice cream shop, and starts walking in that direction. She licks her lips at the thought of a big cone filled with a few scoops of Fruity Mint Swirl.

"Dawson, are you still there?"

Ally is snapped back to reality by the sound of Trish yelling into the phone. "Yeah, sorry, just got a little sidetracked is all." She says. Is that a line outside of the ice cream store? She knows that it was always popular, but not popular enough to have so many people crowded around it. Ally doesn't remember much paparazzi in Miami. They can't possibly know that she's here. She stands on her toes and thinks that she can see a drum set.

Street performers?

Ally can't hear much of the music over the mummer of the crowd. "Are you gonna visit your dad?" Trish asks, her voice lowering a considerable amount. Ally bites her lip as she pushes herself through the crowd. "Excuse me, excuse me."

"Ally?" Trish presses.

"I don't know, maybe." Ally rolls her eyes. She doubts that she would. Then she would have to endure his new family that he pays much more attention to than his old one. Ally freezes when she gets to the front of the crowd. It looks to be a family band that's playing. There's a guitar case in front of them, and people are forming a line to throw money into it. Ally doesn't blame them; these guys sound better than most signed bands out there. The commotion doesn't slow down as they transition into another song.

"Ally, I can just hang up if you don't wanna talk right now." Trish starts speaking again. There isn't any agitation in her voice, and she sounds more like she's desperate for Ally to speak to her. Ally can't blame her, though. The incident happened almost two years ago, but it's still fresh in her mind. She has the scars to prove it.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here." Ally says. She's transfixed by the band's lead singer. He's cute enough; with hair so blonde that it looks bleached, and soft brown eyes, but that's not what catches Ally's attention. He keeps messing with his tank top as the rest of the band sets up for the next song. There's a dark bruise on the boy's chest, but it's only visible for a few moments before he pulls the shirt up to his neck. The boy can't be older than eighteen. Why did he have such a horrible bruise? Ally doesn't remember many fights occurring in Miami, but then again, she was a pretty sheltered kid.

"_I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing," _He starts to sing without any warning. Ally is blown away by his voice. It's smooth like honey and flows with the song like they're meant to be together. Her head turns slightly to the side and she can see a blonde girl playing a keyboard, but staring at the lead singer with concern in her eyes. Maybe she knew about the fight that he got in?

"_Just prayin' to a God that I don't believe in_

_'Cause I got time while she got freedom_

_'Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even_

_Her best days will be some of my worst_

_She finally met a man that's gonna put her first_

_While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping_

_'Cause when a heart breaks no it don't break even... even... no_

_What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?_

_And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're OK?_

_I'm falling to pieces, yeah,_

_I'm falling to pieces,"_

"Ally, what is that? Are you playing some music from that college channel you like?" Trish asks. Ally shakes her head frantically before she realizes that Trish can't see her.

"No, there is this awesome band that's playing outside of my favorite ice cream shop." Ally says, the idea of ice cream long forgotten. The lead singer stares out into the crowd, but his eyes aren't focused. Ally wonders what he's thinking about. "I think that they have that fresh feel that you were talking about." Ally can't help the small smile as her face as the lead singer starts to jam out with the bass player during the guitar solo, making funny faces at him.

"Here, listen." She holds the phone out towards them, hoping that Trish will be able to hear them as well as she can.

"_What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you? And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're okay?" _The lead singer steps back up to his microphone, and raw emotion radiates from his voice.

"_Oh glad you're okay now," _The girl leans in and sings, her voice almost as sweet as his.

"_I'm falling to pieces, yeah," _The lead singer grips onto the microphone for dear life, while the other guitarist steps up to his. His hair is brown, Ally notices.

"_Oh I'm falling, falling," _He tilts his head to the side as he sings.

"_One still in love while the other one's leaving," _The bassist ducks his head into the same microphone.

"Ally, they're amazing! I've gotta sign them. Can you talk to them for me?" Trish asks. Ally's taken aback. Sure, Trish wanted to sign her after watching a video of her performing in front of a mirror on YouTube, but this was a little random.

"Are you sure you don't want to?" Ally asks with a nervous chuckle. She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her wallet while balancing the phone between her head and her shoulder. Her eyes dart back up as the audience erupts into applause, and sees the bruise on the kid's chest again. She pulls a twenty dollar bill out and tosses it in the guitar case.

"Ally, just walk over to them and ask if they want to speak to the owner of your label. You're Ally Dawson; it shouldn't be that hard." Trish chuckles. "You weren't nearly this nervous during the Grammy's." Ally rolls her eyes, and stands around as the audience starts to leave just as quickly as they appeared.

"You and I remember the Grammy's very differently." She chuckles as she takes a tentative step forward, and the girl with the keyboard is the first once to notice her. She pulls the phone away from her ear as she stares. They're starting to pack their instruments up into cases. The lead singer is unplugging the microphone.

"Can I help you?" She asks. Her tone is close to being short, but she isn't being outright rude. The bassist stares at her with wary eyes, while the drummer walks over and starts to empty the money in the guitar case into a jar. The girl glances back towards the lead singer, who turns towards Ally with wide eyes.

"You're Ally Dawson." He gasps. Ally gives a shy smile as she nods, increasing her grip on her cell phone.

"Uh, yeah, that's me." She chuckles nervously, tucking one of her feet behind the other. "Look, I thought that you guys were _amazing _just now and the owner of my label thought so too because-"

"Ross, is this the girl that you're always listening to all of the time?" The guitarist walks up behind Ross and claps a hand on his shoulder. Ross winces, and the guitarist's eyebrows draw together in concern. He opens his mouth to say something else, but Ross cuts him off.

"Yeah, this is Ally, and she was just telling Ry and me something really important." He hisses, a blush creeping up his cheeks. The bassist takes a few steps towards us so that he's standing next to Ross like a bodyguard. Ross turns back to Ally, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry, Rocky's an idiot. What were you saying?"

Ally shakes her head with a chuckle. "It's alright. I know how brothers can be." She paused when she caught herself talking about her dad and his ready-made family. "Um," She clears her throat when she realizes that everyone in the band is staring at her.

"He's not my brother." Rocky interrupts again, but he's bending down to scoop up money and dumps it into the jar, which is overflowing with money. He doesn't look up at Ally as he speaks. Ally's eyebrows rise as she looks between Ross and Rocky. True, they don't have the same colored hair but they still shared some sort of resemblance. They could be related.

"Riker's my brother," Ross says, pointing towards the bassist next to him, who folds his arms and doesn't take his eyes off of Ally. The resemblance between the two of them is clear.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry." Ally feels flustered, but Rocky doesn't even look up at her as he shrugs.

"Yeah, whatever," He mumbles as he grabs his guitar and places it in the case.

"What were you saying?" Ry raises her voice, and Ally's head snaps back in her direction.

"Oh, yeah, uh," Ally looks back at the phone in her hand. "I was watching your performance and I thought that you guys were really good-"

"Of course you did," Rocky mumbles, earning a whack on the head from Ratliff.

"And so did the owner of my label," Ally continues.

"Really?" Ross asks, the excitement clear in his voice. He looks to his side, but Riker doesn't even flinch, though his eyebrows rise.

"She wanted to speak with you," Ally holds the phone out in their general direction. Riker takes the phone and all eyes turn towards him. He doesn't say anything, just mumbles in response to certain things. Ally can hear Trish's excited voice from where she stands. For a twenty seven year old who only owned the label because of her father, Trish was pretty into her job.

Ross's eyes dart between Riker and Ally, and she smiles at him each time he looks at her. His brown eyes are so soft; she can't imagine him in the middle of a fist fight. And judging by the way that Riker stands next to him, she doesn't think that anyone would even get to him.

Riker hangs up the phone, and hands it back to Ally. She tries to smile at him, but he doesn't meet her eyes.

"What'd she say?" Ross asks. He looks like a kid about to open his presents on Christmas morning.

Riker shrugs, but there's a small smile on his face. His younger brother's excitement has gotten to him. "It looks like we have a meeting with Trish De La Rosa tomorrow morning."


	2. Paparazzi

**Disclaimer: I do not own Austin and Ally, R5, or How to Save a Life by the Fray.**

* * *

"And you all would sign here, and here," Trish starts to flip through the five contracts spread out on the table as she finishes her speech. Ally sits next to her, hands folded in her lap. She hasn't set foot in the Miami office since she moved to California. There's something murky about the area that makes Ally want to run outside and bask in the sunshine.

Ryland leans in to pick up her pen, but Ratliff stops her. "We're just gonna sign contracts without getting a lawyer to read them?" Ratliff asks, looking back at the group. Riker's eyebrows pull in together, and he looks away from the contract. Rocky rolls his eyes, while the corners of Ryland's mouth turn down.

"Well," She starts.

Trish looks at the group with concern in her eyes. "I kind of just explained everything in the contracts, but they're written in pretty simple terms. You can read them yourselves, or I can get the lawyers that wrote them up to come and explain them for you…" Her voice trails off at the blank looks of the people in front of her. Without warning, Rocky grabs one of the pens and scribbles his name where Trish pointed. Trish's eyebrows rise, but soon everyone else leans in to sign their names on the piece of paper.

"We're going to need Ross's legal guardian to sign his contract as well." Trish says as Ross presses a pen to the heavy white paper that is his contract. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and his eyes shoot towards Riker, whose eyes grow wide.

"Why?" Rocky asks, leaning forward in his chair. Trish eyes the band warily, her eyes darting between Rocky, Riker, and Ross.

"Because he's a minor," Trish says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. She looks over to Ally, who slides down in her seat. "Is that going to be a problem?" She asks, looking back at the band. The room is silent, and Ross seems to be pleading with Riker with a look.

No one speaks as Riker pick his pen up again and signs his name next to Ross's on the boy's contract. Trish's eyebrows scrunch together. "I thought that-"

"Riker's my older brother." Ross says; his voice soft as he looks down at his hands. Trish eyes the band suspiciously. Ally knows that Riker is Ross's older brother, but she doesn't understand why it's such a big deal that he signs the contract. She wonders if they're drug dealers, but pushes the thought out of her head when Ross's eyes lock onto hers. She looks down at her lap and Trish clears her throat after mumbling something in Spanish.

"Alright," She says to herself before standing up. She holds out her hand towards Ratliff, who's at the farthest end of the table. He tentatively holds out his hand for her shake, and she gives him a large smile. She turns towards Rydel, who's bouncing on her toes. "This is _so _exciting!" She squeals. Trish smiles even wider, if that's possible. "It is for me, too. You can't imagine how long I've been waiting for artists like you five to come around." She turns to the side and holds her hand out at Riker, who stares at her hand for a minutes before shaking it.

Rydel and Ross wear matching grins while Ratliff chuckles and shakes his head at the way they're acting. "So do you guys have a band name?" Ally pipes up from her spot next to Trish. Each member of the band turns to look at the other before they speak in unison.

"R5."

* * *

"We're a real band, with contracts and everything!" Rydel squeals for what has to be the millionth time as Riker drives the van down the streets of Miami with a smirk on his face. Ratliff rattles his drumsticks on the van floor, while Rocky lets out a yell. "We're gonna make it _big time_!"

Ross leans back in the front seat, a grin taking up most of his face. Being signed is something that he's only ever dreamed of, and to have it happen in one day makes him feel like he's in the middle of a dream and is going to wake up in a few minutes. He pinches his arm, but Rocky is still screaming, Ratliff is sill rattling, and Ry is still kicking the back of his seat.

Riker pulls the car up to the front of the house, but doesn't stop the engine when he sees the car in the driveway. "I thought that he's working until six today." He says, his voice hard. Ross sticks his head towards the window, his eyes unreadable. Rydel stares at him with crossed arms. The excitement from their earlier meeting slowly drifts out of the car window.

"Maybe the meeting finished early." Ross says, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. All eyes are on him, but he doesn't meet anyone's eyes. "I can go through the window." He offers, but Riker shakes his head with a disgusted grimace. He starts to turn the car around. "Where are you going?" Ross exclaims, his eyes growing wide.

Riker turns off the engine, and the van jerks to a stop. "Where does he think you are now?" He asks, his voice quiet.

"Summer school," Ross mumbles.

No one says anything. They all know that Ross's summer school excuses is what earned him the bruises that cover his upper body, and is why he's had to wear the sweatshirt all day. Rocky shakes his head, his hands tightening into fists. "You're coming back to the apartment with us." He says like it's obvious.

Riker puts his hands back on the wheel, but Ross shakes his head frantically. "He'll kill me if I don't show up."

"Remember last time?" Ryland pipes up in a small voice. Riker winces as he remembers one of the earlier attempts to get Ross out of the house, when he just brought his younger brother home with him.

"It'll be better than you having to go back in there." Riker says, his eyes glued to the steering wheel. His eyes snap up towards the windows of the house when the white curtains move to the side and Mark appears, waving at the van with a grin on his face. Ross bites his lip.

Ratliff shakes his head. "It'll be worse if the cops have to raid the apartment for drugs again. You can't help him if you're in jail or worse-" He says, his voice a whisper.

"I don't _care_!" Riker snaps. Ratliff grips his drum sticks in his hands, and Ross can't help but notice how quiet everything is without their happiness filling the van.

"Guys, don't fight." Ross raises his voice. His brother doesn't look at him, but stares at the window again. Mark is just standing there, seemingly waiting for Ross to come into the house. The grin is plastered onto his face, and makes Ross feel sick.

"You have to call if something happens this time, because the light flicking thing isn't working." Ratliff says. His voice is still quiet, and Ross knows that the whole situation makes him upset. He nods slowly, before looking at the rest of the band and giving a small wave. His hands tremble as he opens the passenger door, and he gulps. He doesn't want any of them to see him looking afraid. They already know what might happen to him. They don't need to worry anymore.

"Your brother gave you a ride home from summer school? Now isn't that sweet." Mark greets Ross when he reaches the door. Ross doesn't meet his eyes, but Mark grabs his arm with an iron grip. He knows what's coming. Mark turns around and waves at the van that still sits there. Ross can see Rocky sticking his middle finger out of the window.

"What lovely friends he's made." Mark mumbles before dragging Ross inside and locking the door. He wonders if they stick around long enough to hear his screams.

* * *

Ally walks into her empty hotel room. It's nice enough, with a clean carpet and freshly made bed, but her heart aches for something to make her feel more at home. She lets out a sigh as she throws herself onto the covers of the bed, before turning to the nightstand and picking up her book. She remembers the days when her father would eye the book suspiciously from across the dinner table whenever she scribbled ideas down. He never said anything. She wishes that he cared enough to visit one of her concerts, so that he can see what his silence did for her.

She sits in silence for a few moments, flipping past the songs that were written when she was nineteen. It was just a year ago, but it feels like it was a lifetime ago. She can practically see the razor gliding across her skin as she reads through one of the songs. The vision is overwhelming. She shuts the book, and drops it back on the nightstand. She hasn't written anything remotely happy in three years. Her only excuse is that it's harder than it looks.

Ally pulls her phone out of her pocket, hoping for something to distract her, but she doesn't have any messages. She bites at her lip as she thinks about R5. It was an awesome name, one that she's jealous of. She didn't get to think of any cool names when she was first signed. She lets out another sigh, and is bothered by the way that it seems to echo in the empty room. She presses her feet back onto the carpeted floor, and starts to walk towards the door.

She's down the stairs and out of the door in no time, glasses perched on top of her nose. She hops into her rental car, and no one gives her a second glance as she makes her way down the Miami streets. Her car leads her towards the store, following a route that's permanently etched into her mind.

Ally parks her car a few feet away and shuts the door. The outside of the store doesn't look any different, with the same vibrant colors and sign hanging next to the door. People walk around her to get into the door, and she notices someone pointing at her and whispering to someone else. She hurries around the store and to the staircase on the side.

The door isn't locked when she gets to the top, but she lets out a short scream when she sees Ross sitting in front of a piano, the piano that Ally used to sneak up and play whenever her dad wasn't paying attention. His eyes dart up towards her, and she sees a black ring surrounding his right eye. She starts to shake her head at him, letting out another yelp. He crosses the room in two long strokes and pulls her into the room, shutting the door behind her.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you getting into fights? Selling drugs? And you're what, seventeen? I've known Trish for a pretty long time, and she'll drop you from the label in a blink of an eye if she finds out that you're into that sort of stuff-" Ally rambles while whipping off her sunglasses. Ross tries to interrupt her, but ends up placing both of his hands over her mouth.

"Look, I promise that I'm not into any of that stuff, alright?" Ross says in a rushed voice. His eyes are big, and the honey brown color is mesmerizing. Ally stares back at him with wide eyes, still shocked that he's in her old office. The walls are a dingy white color and the rest of the room is still pretty empty, but the piano is still in the same place. It gives Ally an odd feeling, like she's truly back at home.

Ross tentatively pulls his hands off of her mouth, but doesn't step backwards. Ally searches his eyes, which are filled with surprise and something else. She opens her mouth to say something, but pauses when she sees more dark blotchy spots on his arms. "Then what were you doing?" She asks, her voice coming out softer than she thought that it would be. Her hand reaches up to touch the black eye.

Ross takes a step back from her, reaches for the sweatshirt resting on the chair in front of the piano. He tries to shove it over his head, but Ally sees the gigantic bruise on his stomach as he does so. "Nothing," He says in a muffled voice. "I tripped."

Ally stares at him, clearly unconvinced. "You bruised your whole body by tripping?" She asks, folding her arms. She tries to remember back when she was in high school. Her razor was always ready whenever she needed a way to relieve stress, but she didn't go around bruising herself. She's not even sure how she would do that. Jump off of a roof?

"Forget it. It's really none of your business anyway," He mumbles as he sits back down at the piano. She looks behind him and thinks that she can see a black and white poster of her sitting at a piano, her eyes closed and her hair fanned out around her. She clears her throat as she walks towards the piano.

"You know, if someone's hurting you, it's okay to tell." She says, keeping her voice soft. "Even if it's someone that you're afraid to tell on, like your friends or the rest of the band…"

"They would never hurt me." Ross snaps, his voice cutting off hers. Ally blinks, taken back. Her eyes dart back towards the poster of herself at the wall. Ross's eyes follow hers, and she smiles a little bit at the blush that fills his cheeks. "Rocky got that for me as a joke…" He says, his voice trailing off.

Ally nods, the smile still on her face. "Whatever you say."

On the inside, she worries about where Ross could've gotten the bruises. She believed him when he told her that he wasn't getting into fights or selling drugs, but where else would he have gotten all of these injuries? Her mind reels. Is he covering up for someone in the band? They all seemed pretty chummy, and she can't imagine any of them throwing a punch to Ross's eye.

"You've written some pretty amazing songs." Ross compliments. Ally's head snaps towards him, but he's already staring at her. She drops her eyes down towards the keys, hoping that he can't see the red of her face. She shouldn't be reacting this way to compliment from a teenager. She's twenty years old, and gets compliments from kids his age all of the time. She forces the smile on her face to stay put.

"Thanks," She says. Her fingers inch towards the keys and before long, she's playing the melody to one of her popular songs. She can feel Ross's eyes on her. Her fingers glide across the keys in a fluid motion, and she finally knows that she's home within her music.

"_Step one – you say, 'We need to talk.'_

_He walks, you say, 'Sit down. It's just a talk.'_

_He smiles politely back at you_

_You stare politely right on through_

_Some sort of window to your right_

_As he goes left and you stay right_

_Between the lines of fear and blame_

_And you begin to wonder why you came," _

Ally pauses when she realizes that she's been singing, and her eyes pop open to see Ross staring at her with wide honey brown eyes. "Y-you're fantastic." He gushes, eyes darting between her hands and her eyes. Ally knows that there's a blush on her cheeks, and she looks back down at the keys while placing her hands in her lap. "Thanks," She says again, a feeling of awkwardness spreading over her.

"I wanna be able to write like you someday." He continues, obviously oblivious to how uncomfortable she is. Her eyes dart back up to his, and she feels her heart breaking at the sight of his black eye.

"I'll bet that you're already better." She says evenly.

"Not even close," Ross shakes his head, a half smile on his face.

Ally notices how close she's sitting to him, and jumps to her feet. His eyebrows fly up and he looks startled. "You know that I used to write in here? My dad owned the place a few years ago," Ally says, changing the subject and hoping that Ross will open up about where he got the bruises. She guesses that he got them at home, but from who? And how did he sneak out and into the office? Her eyes dart towards the door leading inside of the store, and she wonders if anyone knows that they're here.

Ross looks around the room in surprise. "Really?" He scratches the back of his head, looking sheepish. "My friend Ratliff's parents own the store now. I come up here a lot when," He pauses and seems to realize that Ally's still in the room. "…when I want to be alone," He bites his lip and looks down at the piano keys. "My dad's pretty strict." His voice is a whisper.

His dad! That's who's doing this? Ally bites his lip. She doesn't like the way that the boy has deflated, but doesn't want to press the subject either. She points her thumb towards the door that leads outside. "Do you want to get some ice cream?" She asks, surprising herself. She remembers walking on the boardwalk and eating ice cream with her father and pushes the memories back down.

Ross looks up at her like she's crazy. "Are you serious?"

Ally nods, opening the door and holding it open for him. "Yeah, come on. It's on me." She grins. She never did get that cone filled with Fruity Mint Swirl, and she wants it now.

* * *

"I'm so sorry. It's never like this, I swear." Ally apologizes again. She can't believe that she's such an idiot. Why didn't she remember the paparazzi? She's wearing her glasses, but wonders if she should've let the boy wear them instead. His eyes are wide at each flash of a camera. His hand finds Ally's and grips it like a lifeline. She doesn't say anything else, and squeezes his hand, hoping that it will comfort him. He's going to have to get used to this when their band is out there.

The mob of paparazzi moves with each step that the pair takes.

"Ally, is this your boyfriend?"

"Ally, have you moved on from Dallas so quickly?"

"When's your new album coming out?"

"Who's this?"

"What's with all of the bruises?"

Ally's head snaps back towards Ross, and she remembers the bruises. She silently curses herself as she pushes against them even harder. "Move, please." She hisses. She wonders how Ross's father will react to the pictures. An image of an older man striking Ross across his face makes her shove the photographers to the side even harder.

The reach the parking lot where her car is parked, and Ross is quick to slide into the passenger seat and slam the door in the faces of the paparazzi. Ally pushes through the mob to get to the driver's side. She doesn't look to her side as she sticks her key into the ignition and drives through the crowd and onto the road.

* * *

**I need to stop writing super long chapters. I think that it's because I want to get things done in each chapter. I don't like fillers. Anyways,**

**Thanks to:**

**_XxXRachaelLAXxX_: Thank you so much!**

**_ItsYaGirlTerTer_: I'm glad that you do! Thanks for your review!**

**_AusslyLOVER1_: Thanks!**

**_Guest_: Yay! And thanks for reviewing. **


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